


Song to Soothe the Soul

by msmooseberry



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Huntsman Keith, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lotor is the king, M/M, Merman Lance, Pining Keith (Voltron), mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 03:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14968454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmooseberry/pseuds/msmooseberry
Summary: Keith, king’s best huntsman, was out on a hunt, hoping to get himself a good deer for dinner, but when the track leads him to the rocky cliff at the edge of the forest he hears a beautiful song that sticks in his mind and pulls him to the deep blue sea with an inexplicable force. Of course, Keith ends up going down to the shore to find the mysterious singer and meets someone who completely changes his life.





	Song to Soothe the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [thacmis'](http://thacmis.tumblr.com/) mermaid AU Klance [sketches](http://thacmis.tumblr.com/tagged/mermaid%20klance). They are all so pretty, please, check them out. I took some liberty with the plot and made Keith a huntsman and Lance kind of a siren (or lets just pretend merfolk are really good at singing in general)?

Keith carefully made his way through the overgrown forest path, mindful of his every step lest he trod on a stray branch and gave away his presence with a loud snap. He knew he must be close now, the prints on the ground, still soft from yesterday’s shower, were a clear giveaway, as well as a few broken twigs that stood out in the otherwise undisturbed greenery around him. Keith knew he was moving in the right direction, and could almost feel the taste of a wholesome meal he would make for dinner once he succeeded in his pursuit. And the man had no doubt he would. After all he wasn’t called the king’s best huntsman for nothing. 

Today his unsuspecting prey was a deer. A young male hart to be precise, sporting at least six tines, not enough to be worthy of the attention of the king’s hunting party yet, but a good game still, were it not for the limp Keith could see it had, judging by the uneven track it left behind. This meant one thing - the deer had been injured, either in a love quest where he met a stronger and more experienced opponent, or by mere accident that could very well happen in this mountainous area with so many rocky slopes and hidden crevices. Anyway, whatever happened left the young fellow incapacitated and thus not fit to be the royal prey, which, on the bright side, meant that it was all Keith’s to hunt down and feast on. The only tricky part would be to haul the carcass back to his hut after he had slain it.

Keith looked around himself, realising that the track was leading straight to the edge of the forest line which was cut abruptly by a steep cliff. Beyond that point was the deep blue sea. Sometimes calm and gentle it caressed the rocks beneath, but mostly it was wild and stormy and crashed into the dark grey surface with furious vigour, sending thick foam and sprays of salt water fly as high as the grassy patch of land on top of the cliff. 

‘You better not’ve fallen off, mate,’ Keith thought gloomily. Even if the sky was clear and there was no sign of a storm coming, in case the deer really had fallen off the cliff there was no way Keith could pull it back up from there safely. Being a huntsman in the royal forest for as long as he had, Keith knew the area like the back of his hand and remembered all the safe paths to the rocky shore, but even he needed both hands free to get there in one piece. 

The thought that he would have to leave without the meaty prize seriously dampened Keith’s mood, but he kept going nonetheless. Luckily, when he almost reached the dreaded edge the track swivelled to the side and seemed to go deeper into the forest, which was just what he needed. Keith was ready to continue his chase when a strange sound coming from beneath caught his keen ear and made him stop in his tracks. At first he thought he might have fancied it, but just as he was about to take a step away it came again. Keith turned back towards the cliff as if hypnotised, led by something that sounded like... singing?

Keith frowned. It was unlike any tune he had heard before, so disorderly and yet melodious it was, resonating off the surrounding rocks and carrying on in the salty breeze. It was mesmerising, and suddenly Keith felt a strong urge to find out its source no matter what. He didn’t even notice when his feet started to move and barely caught himself before tumbling down into the jovial sparkling waves that would’ve readily welcomed him into their hungry blue jaws. His abrupt halt sent little pebbles and twigs flying off the cliff with a soft rustle, and Keith took a sharp intake of breath when he realised how close he was to following in their wake. The singing stopped, and Keith started to doubt if it had really been there just a moment ago. After a couple of minutes of waiting he decided he must’ve been mistaken after all and made himself go away from the edge to find the deer he had been after in the first place. Whatever he heard must’ve been a foreign bird that got lost on its way, or something of a kind. There was simply no way for it to be human. No human could sing so beautifully, so enticingly. Keith was sure of that.

\- 

He caught the deer. It was a bit of a struggle, and Keith almost broke the spear when he tore it out of the bone where it had firmly stuck after his powerful throw. Perhaps, he had used a little to much force this time, and later had been too tense to make a clean cut when putting the dying animal out of its misery. He caught the artery and got bathed in the warm sticky blood, cursing inwardly and aloud. Oh the many joys of living alone in the middle of a forest. 

The trip back was as strenuous and exhausting as Keith had predicted, and by the time he had finished with skinning and carving the deer he had no energy left to actually cook it. No matter, he’d do it first thing in the morning. And for the time being what he really needed was some thorough washing. He could do with just wiping himself off with a wet cloth, like he did most of the time, but today Keith felt the need to be submerged in water.

It was an irrational desire that he couldn’t quite explain, but went to the old shack to get the wooden tub that was big enough to accommodate him. Well, most of him anyway. Keith poured the rain water he kept in barrels into it, because he was too lazy to make several walks to the well that stood behind his modest dwelling. It wasn’t much, but it was home.

The hut once belonged to his father and was where Keith had lived all his life. The old man had taught him everything he knew, starting from the moment Keith had learned how to walk. It was as if he knew he hadn’t had much time and wanted to make the best of what remained. He died shortly after Keith had come of age, during one of the hunts when the prince’s noble friends requested him to track a wild boar. Keith hated their guts ever since. Not that it was hard not to even before the tragic accident, but as the prince became king and had picked him as his huntsman, Keith had been obliged to act on their whims whenever they pleased. Those bloated bloody bastards. Oh how he wished they would meet an ugly death one day, preferably pierced by the antlers of the very deer they so love to hunt, or torn to pieces by another wild boar. That would serve them right.

Keith knew that this was only wishful thinking, and that if something like that really transpired, he’d most likely be the first to be hanged. And yet, dull rage gnawed at him from the inside every time he lay his eyes on the tall straight figure of His Royal Highness atop of a mighty stallion, it’s mane as white and well groomed as that of the king himself, which Keith found particularly ridiculous. Serving him was a torture and each new hunt reminded Keith how much he despised him but could do nothing against him. And the king saw his helplessness and revelled in it, because that was just his rotten nature. Keith still remembered the words he uttered contemptuously upon seeing his father’s mangled body. “What a waste. I hope he taught his son better than this. Dispose of him.”

“I’d gladly dispose of you, Lotor,” grumbled Keith under his breath as he pulled off his bloodied clothes, wishing it was splattered with the king’s innards instead. But when he started folding the red scarf that was large and soft, even if already fraying at the edges, his expression softened and his frown disappeared. The scarf had been his mother’s. Keith didn’t remembered her clearly, but according to his father she had been a brave and kind woman, and loved him till the day she died. Sometimes illness could be just as ferocious as a wild beast, it pounced unannounced and never let one go from its deadly clutches alive. 

Keith washed off blood and grime off his clothes the best he could, using up the last of the water from the barrel, and then got into the tub. The evening was cool but pleasantly so and the chill water felt good against Keith’s sweaty skin. First he scrubbed at himself with a wash cloth, then settled down into the tub, legs hanging out for lack of space, and relaxed against the wooden frame. The water almost reached his collar bones and made his body feel lighter than it was. It was truly relaxing, and soon Keith closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the forest that seemed to amplify once his sight got cut off. The soft scratching of small nocturnal animals coming out of their burrows, the distant hooting of an owl, the monotonous chirring of crickets, all these sounds melted into one and got enveloped by the overpowering rustling of the tree tops that swayed in the wind. Millions of leaves shifted and danced, whispering to one another and creating a never ending tune that lulled Keith to sleep, pulling him deeper and deeper into the serene cocoon of nothingness where he felt light as a feather and free of all his pains and sorrows. It was as if he was at the bottom of the sea.

He wondered whether he’d be able to hear that beautiful song once again. Because nothing would be better at the moment than that. It would even be worth drowning. It would...

Keith sat up with a jerk, taking a large gulp of air and coughing up water that he almost inhaled while slowly slipping down in the tub. His eyes were wide open and a little frantic, hands gripping the edges of the tub with as much force as he could master. ‘What the hell was that,’ he thought, feeling lost and suddenly too cold to be staying in the water any longer.

As Keith dried himself, his mind kept coming back to the voice he heard from the bottom of the cliff. Now he somehow had no doubt that it belonged to someone rather than something, and he wanted to find out who it was.

-

The next day Keith roasted half of the deer meat and prepared the other half for smoking. The breakfast was the best he had, perhaps, in a month, his usual ration consisting mostly of sinewy rabbits and tasteless tiny eggs he stole from wild birds’ nests. But he couldn’t quite enjoy his meal because his mind kept wandering to what happened the other day and what he was going to do today. When Keith packed his satchel half an hour later he put in a good amount of rope and a hunting net with little brass hooks that sank into flesh once the prey started thrashing and made it virtually impossible to get out of it. He had no idea what he’d find at the rocky shore and preferred to be safe than sorry.

The weather was sunny again but Keith still put the scarf on before leaving, it made him feel safer for some reason, even if it stood out like a bright beacon among the trees. The black pants he normally wore were still drying so he had to put on the white ones that were usually reserved for royal hunts. Everybody had to look presentable before he king’s eyes, muddy forest paths be damned. He set out with a sense of excitement that made his insides warm and tingly with anticipation. Whether it would be another hunt or a peculiar encounter, Keith had a feeling it would bring about change into his bleak existence and he just couldn’t wait.

The edge of the cliff looked as unassuming as always when Keith reached it, and the whisper of the calm waves beneath seemed to mock him with the lack of the magical singing. Keith tried to peer down but from his position the better part of the shore was hidden by the rocky slope. It looked like he’d have to go down after all. 

The closest path lay several feet to his left and while Keith made his way towards it he kept an ear out for any unusual sounds, but nothing gave away the presence he was seeking. When he started to climb down, choosing carefully the sharp-edged boulders to step on and to grab for purchase, it was with a growing sense of disappointment. For all he knew, all this mysterious singing could be just a figment of his overactive imagination. Perhaps, the secluded life was finally getting to him after all these years and his mind, starved for human contact, was playing tricks on him. For hoping to actually meet someone down there, on the slippery cold rocks under a cliff he was just- 

“So stupid,” Keith hissed, taking in the empty shore. Now at the bottom of the path on one of the large flat damp boulders that littered the ground, as well as heaps of seaweed, tangled in unsightly lumps, he could clearly see that the place was deserted. Of course it was, one had to be crazy to choose this even as a temporary shelter, granted that there was something akin to a cave that seemed to be carved into the rocky side of the cliff. It was effectively hidden from sight if one looked from the top, like Keith had a few minutes ago, but was so close to the ground he guessed it inevitably got flooded when the tide was in. Still, right now the passage was clear and Keith decided to check it out, just for the hell of it.

He carefully made his way towards the mouth of the cave, noting how his boots left practically no traces on the smooth rocks and wondering whether his mysterious singer could’ve got away equally inconspicuously. Then again, got away to where? There was no way Keith would’ve missed any footprints on the forest floor, and using a boat to get here was also out of the question because even if it was fairly deep just a couple of feet ahead, plenty of rocks lay scattered just beneath the surface. They jutted out in some places but mostly stayed hidden and thus were more deadly even for experienced sailors.

To enter the cave Keith had to bend, but once he made it inside and straightened himself, he let out a little gasp. What looked like a place barely fit for a grown person turned out to be much taller and wider, cutting deep into the cliff and mostly filled with water. In fact, Keith would at most be able to take five steps before stepping into the salty pool that stretched ahead for as far as he could see in the dim lighting. There was, however, a source of light in the cave aside from the entrance, which Keith was now blocking anyway, and he studied the irregular chunky walls that glinted wetly and mirrored the bleaks cast by the calm blue water. The edges of the lake were crusted white with the salt, giving it a frost-bitten look. Just thinking about it made a chill run down Keith’s spine and he adjusted the scarf around himself on impulse. The air was cool and fresh here, and as he continued to stand in the entrance, Keith sensed a light breeze brush at his fingertips, which suggested there was at least one more opening somewhere in the cave for the air to be sucked in like that. Was it possible to get in here from another side? 

Well, even if it was, there was no way for Keith to check that for he could see how light blue water turned darker abruptly, hinting at its considerable depth, and while Keith was a fairly good swimmer, he had no intention to dive in there with no clear destination in sight. He huffed, half irritated, half despondent, and headed out. The light of the sun was suddenly too bright and blinded him momentarily as he stepped back onto the shore. Keith shielded his face, while stomping moodily towards the path and keeping his eyes on the ground. That’s why when he was about to start climbing his way up a loud splash followed by a wet thump from the shore startled him so much he lost his footing and fell painfully on his back. Keith groaned weakly and screwed his eyes shut for a moment to dispel the black spots that crept over his vision. Then he rolled slowly to the side and scrambled to his knees, one hand clutching at the back of his head and the other holding onto a sturdy rock that rose as high as his waist and hid the rest of the shore from view.

‘What was that sound,’ he thought distractedly, inspecting the hand that had been probing at his sore head and, thankfully, finding no blood. To crack his skull open over some splash, that would be just his luck. He peaked over the rock, ready to stand to full height, and froze.

There on the shore he had crossed a few moments before sat a man. He seemed to be naked from the waist up and his short chestnut hair was dripping wet, plastered to his nape and curling over his ears. Keith studied his form from the side, still mostly hidden behind the rock and barely breathing, afraid to make too much noise and give himself away. But the longer he looked, eyes roaming over the wide expanse of smooth bronze skin, following the curves of the man’s back, the more he thought he must’ve hit his head a little too hard on the unforgiving ground, because what he first assumed were the man’s pants now appeared to glint in the sun, like scales would when the light hit them just right. Keith frowned. That couldn’t be true, it must be some kind of-

Right at that moment something flicked at the man’s thigh and Keith realised, quite shocked, that what he was seeing was a fin. Attached to that very thigh, light blue and almost transparent, lying atop the rock, splayed like the hand casually resting beside it. And as if that wasn’t enough, the man shifted and a large blue tail came up from the water, bringing up a spray which sparkled brightly in the sun and crashed down on the shore with a loud splatter. The tail rested on the now wet surface and Keith couldn’t tear his gaze away from the gorgeous scales that shone like diamonds under the warm afternoon rays and ended in two large tapered fins, matching the ones at the man’s – merman’s? - thighs and also splayed for his curious eyes to ogle. The beautiful creature settled more comfortably on the shore, carding one hand through his tangled short locks and shaking off excess water from the dark tresses. Keith couldn’t help but trace the lines of well-defined muscles as they shifted when he moved, and felt his face burn with a tell-tale blush. Was it the sea, or was it his blood rushing so loudly in his ears? Keith didn’t know but could take a wild guess. He had never seen anything, no, anyone like that before, and he was simply stunned. If only he could get a little closer...

Just as the thought crossed Keith’s mind, a soft tune reached his ears. He stilled, listening eagerly as the man continued to hum the song that was definitely the one Keith had heard the other day, and yet completely different. It was not the melody, he realised with a start, but the feeling that came with it. A sudden powerful pull towards its source that seemed to come from his very core and was impossible to fight. Not that Keith wanted to anyway. He felt himself rise from his crouching position, eyes never leaving the beautiful singer, and take a small hesitant step around the boulder that separated him from the sitting figure. He was about to make another step when the man turned and Keith was pinned by piercing blue eyes, wide and startled as they took him in. The tune cut off and Keith blinked away the daze that had lifted like a curtain, realising, to his horror, that he had been found out. For a few moments the two stared at each other in tense silence, and then the large blue tail swung up in a wide arch as the blue-eyed man twisted around, no doubt ready to dash into the dark waves and propel himself as far away from the shore as possible for Keith never to see him again.

“Wait!” he cried and cringed inwardly at how desperate he sounded, but he didn’t care, because he had finally found something truly wonderful and now it was slipping away.

“Please! I mean you no harm,” he begged, sinking to the cold rocks and holding up his open palms, hopefully in a placating gesture. The man paused, looking uncertain but still prepared to flee at the slightest sign of danger.

“Don’t leave,” Keith whispered, mentally preparing himself for the parting splash of cold water and the last sparkle of blue scales. But for some inexplicable reason the man stayed, his eyes boring into Keith’s and his head tilting slightly to the side. Then, all of a sudden, he shifted his body once again, this time, however, turning in the direction opposite from the waiting sea.

Keith watched with bated breath as he slowly but deliberately made his way towards him, scales scraping against the dry rock and making Keith frown. That couldn’t be pleasant. He glanced down but couldn’t make out the ground for a moment, finding his vision blurred. He blinked automatically and wanted to rub at his eyes but was startled when a hand that was not his own touched his cheek instead. Keith looked up then and found himself drowning in the deep blue eyes that seemed to be staring into his very soul. They were so close now that he could make out tiny green specks in the irises and could see his reflection in the wide black pupils. 

‘He’s really beautiful,’ Keith thought, afraid to move and break the magical moment. Thin cool fingers rubbed at his cheek, the touch gentle and soothing, as if it were him who could dash away, and Keith heard something that sounded like a soft trill coming from the man. The fingers came away moist and Keith finally realised that the wetness he felt on his face was not from the stray droplets of sea water, even if it was equally bitter, but from his own tears that came running down his cheeks, fat and unbidden, and oh so unfamiliar. He hadn’t cried since he was a child. His father’s death had only brought white hot anger that scorched him something awful but left his eyes dry. Why was he breaking down now of all times?

Another trill tore Keith from his musings and he looked into the open worried face once again. He drew in a shaky breath that almost turned into a sob, but didn’t let it slip. Keith had promised himself ages ago he wouldn’t cry because he was strong, it was about time he followed through on that promise. He went for a reassuring smile and could bet it looked crooked and unnatural. Keith had very few reasons to smile lately, but it was worth a try.

“I’m fine,” he said, waiting for the man’s next move. Or response. Or anything. But he remained silent, seated in the same position, one hand still clutching the side of Keith’s face and eyes searching. Keith stared at him with a growing suspicion.

“I’m okay, you can-” he didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Did he want the beautiful creature to stop touching him? Hardly. And of course he didn’t want him gone, he just wanted to know-

“Do you understand me?” he asked cautiously. The man made another sound, this time more akin to a short click and drew back, sitting on his curled tail and watching him expectantly. Keith sighed. At least he didn’t look like he wanted to leave any more. He could work with that.


End file.
